


No Strings Allowed

by insipid_rhyme



Series: Gallavich One-Shots [12]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Requested, friends with benfits
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 13:28:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19174243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insipid_rhyme/pseuds/insipid_rhyme
Summary: Ian and Mickey are friends with benefits. Someone sends Mickey an anonymous bouquet of flowers at his place of work.





	No Strings Allowed

Mickey panted as he came down from his orgasm. He hunched over Ian, his hands on the redheads chest the only thing keeping him upright. He smirked lazily down at Ian then rolled off to lay beside him. They both lay sprawled on the bed staring up at the ceiling, breathing heavily as they basked in their shared afterglow.  
Ian turned to smile at him then held himself up on one elbow, leaning down to kiss him gently. Mickey allowed it only because he was in a good fucking mood after coming twice on the redheads dick, and he even kissed him back for a moment before he pulled away and sat up. He stood up from the bed and bent down to grab his discarded boxers and jeans from the floor, feeling Ian's eyes on his ass the entire time, and quickly got dressed. He was buttoning up his shirt when Ian crawled over to him, pulling him in between his long legs and staring up at him.  
"You really gotta leave right now?" Ian asked, running his hands down his sides then sliding them around to grab two handfuls of Mickey's full ass cheeks through his denim jeans. "We can go for another round if you stay," he offered seductively as he kneaded Mickey's ass with his large hands.

Mickey chuckled and finished buttoning up his shirt, fighting the urge to crawl back into bed with Ian and forcing himself to step back and find his shoes. "Nah, I gotta be at work soon. Have to swing home and shower and shit, got no time to be riding your cock, man." 

"Well, who said you had to ride my cock?" Ian purred and pulled him close again, ignoring Mickey's half hearted protests. He leaned in and pressed his mouth to Mickey's ear, sucking on the lobe before huskily whispering, "You could be riding my face." 

Mickey groaned as the mental images popped up into his mind and he shoved Ian away, the younger man letting himself fall easily back to the bed while smirking up at Mickey. 

Mickey glared at him as he found his shoes and pulled them on, all while thinking of sitting on the redheads face. His cock twitched in interest. "Fuck you," he grumbled as Ian started lazily stroking himself, his wide mouth stretched into a smug smirk. He stomped out of Ian's bedroom and down the hall, opening the front door. He heard Ian yell out, "Text me!" before he rolled his eyes and slammed the front door shut, trudging off down the corridor to the elevator. 

***

He stopped at his apartment long enough to shower and change into his work clothes, which consisted of a boring gray button down shirt and a pair of tight fitting black slacks. He worked as an editor in an office not too far from his house. He liked his job, even though the repetitive work on his computer and sitting in a chair all day was hard on his eyes and his ass. His constant fear was that his ass would go flat… as it was his best asset. He could pick up any guy he wanted by simply bending down in front of them, pretending to drop something or tie his laces. Ian had a wild obsession with his ass, much like the obsession Mickey had with his nine inch ginger cock. Ian's girth was thicker than his own forearm. 

***

Mickey was sat at his work station in his small as fuck shared cubicle. Some guy called Casper or some shit sat behind him. He'd tried to rope Mickey into a boring ass conversation pretty much every fucking day since he'd started working here. He was nice enough, Mickey supposed, but he resembled an over eager puppy dog, always ready to please. He was the kind of kid Mickey would've had fun beating down when he was a teenager living in the Southside. 

The kid was humming some annoying upbeat song while Mickey tried to focus on the manuscript on his computer that he was currently editing. Sometimes it was hard to belive actual humans wrote this shit. They were lucky editors existed, 'cos most of these 'writers' had no skill in this department at all. 

The further he progressed through the manuscript, the more pissed off he got. "For fucks sake," he whispered under his breath, clicking at the mouse pad aggressively. A shadow fell over his desk, and he swiveled his chair around to see a guy stood over him, holding a bouquet of assorted flowers in one hand and a clipboard in the other. 

"You Milkovich?" The floral delivery guy asked, glancing down at his clipboard. Mickey's brows furrowed, glancing around the office self consciously. 

"Who's asking?" He finally responded hesitantly, thumbing at his mouth nervously. The floral deliverer shrugged. 

"Secret admirer," he answered indifferently. "Here." He thrust the flowers at Mickey, who reluctantly accepted them. He glanced down and saw a card nestled within the flowers. He fished it out and squinted at the neat scrawl. 

_"I just wanted to let you know that… I've liked you since I first saw you. And your perfect ass,"_ the card read. "What the fuck," Mickey breathed in disbelief. Who the fuck writes that? Who the fuck would send him flowers?! 

There could only be one fucking person who would do that. Fucking Gallagher. He crumpled the card up in his fist and tossed it in the waste bin.

"Secret admirer, huh?" Casper asked, smiling at him hesitantly. Mickey took a deep breath and grunted in confirmation.

"Seems like the guys pretty into you," Casper observed. Mickey's head snapped towards him. 

"You calling me _gay?!"_ he spat. Casper's eyes widened and he shook his head rapidly. 

"N-no!" He squeaked. "Just assumed, 'cos girls don't usually send flowers to guys… I'm sorry…" he trailed off, his cheeks red. Mickey thought he saw tears in his eyes. Fucking hell. 

"Look, it's fine, okay?" Mickey said, attempting a calm tone. Casper looked like he was gonna make a scene with a breakdown. Fuck. 

"I am gay," he blurted. Casper's eyes widened, along with his. 

"Y-you are?" Casper asked. Mickey forced himself to nod stiffly then looked at the flowers on his desk. Ugly fucking things. 

"You, uh, you want these?" he asked awkwardly. Casper's face lit up and he nodded rapidly. He handed them over to him with a grimace. Casper looked like a kid with his first boner. Mickey glanced at his computer and cursed. 

"Hey, can you cover for me? I gotta leave," he said to Casper, not waiting for a response before he saved the manuscript and shut his computer down, grabbing his stupid brown leather side bag and high tailing it out of the office.

***

As soon as he got home to his apartment, he texted Ian. 

TO: Firecrotch  
12:37 - what the fuck is up with you

He didn't have to wait long before he got a response.

FROM: Firecrotch  
12:39 - Just this (attached file) 

Mickey narrowed his eyes and clicked onto the file, his eyes widening when Ian's huge, fully erect cock showed up on his screen. His hand was wrapped around the base, his red pubes contrasting with his pale skin. Fucker. Mickey's dick betrayed him by twitching in his slacks. He angrily typed out a response. 

TO: Firecrotch  
12:42 - no you IDIOT wtf is UP with you sending me FLOWERS at my place of WORK

He waited impatiently for Ian's text. 

FROM: Firecrotch  
12:44 - i didn't send u flowers ? 

Mickey scoffed. 

TO: Firecrotch  
12:45 - do I seem stupid to you fuckhead? Whatever this shit is, it's OVER. Find yourself a new fuck buddy with a PERFECT ASS

He sent the text then shut his phone off.


End file.
